#but i finally have all my shit out of the house except furniture that can't be moved until my mom moves

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[nymphybae]

Rainstorms with Alastor

It's unusual for hell to rain, yet this time the droplets grow heavier and thunders struck loud enough to make you unease. You shivered, covering your ears as you tried to focus on the television in front of you. Everybody else was asleep except for yourself, how can you when the storm reminded you of how you met your life's end.

The tv lost its signal and soon powered down, leaving you in an unsettling silence in the lounge room. You pursed your lips, feeling restless as you watch the rain pour from the window.

Footsteps were heard, coming closer into the room. You didn't need to second guess who it was, facing the red haired demon who looked down at you with a sly grin.

"Can't sleep my dear?"

"Yeah.. I just-" A loud thunder storm cut your sentence, immediately putting you in an anxious stance. Your hands were shaking, hugging yourself as an attempt to calm the pulsing in your heart.

Alastor puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a faint squeeze. "Come with me."

You were a little curious, wondering why he's leading you to your own room.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked, pulling the chair of the tea table you had next to the window. 

"I'd love it." You smiled as he motioned for you to sit. 

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured the equipments needed for the drink.

"This is my favourite batch of tea, it's aroma is just purely sweet as if it came straight from heaven, ha!" he brewed the pot with his dark magic. 

"Here." 

You took the cup, thanking him as you took a sip of the warm tea. Who would've thought the caffeine would help you so much. "It's really good! No wonder you order this batch every other month."

Alastor sat across you, holding a cup himself. He had a pleased smile on his face. "Glad to hear. Now, tell me what's troubling you so late at night?"

Should you really tell him? You figured it was too silly, especially for the radio demon himself. Out of all things that could displease you in hell are the vigorous sounds from outside.

"I hate thunderstorms." You admitted. He didn't say anything, as if waiting for you to continue so you did. You took a deep breath. "It reminds me of the little remnant memories I have left of my death. I lived below mountains, you see. My brothers locked me out of the house because I turned in on our family’s illegal trading to the police- which I obviously didn’t. Then a really terrible thunderstorm came, wiped out most of our crops and farmland. The heavy wind threw me down a lake and I drowned till water filled my lungs.” You took another sip of the tea. “I guess it wasn’t the death, it was the fact that my own blood betrayed me only because of their own assumptions, and I end up losing everything in the end. But they got to live, probably thinking that I left and never came back.” Your hand formed a fist at the thought. It was a short silence for a bit until Alastor spoke.

"Hah, Men.” He poured more tea into his cup. You chuckled at his remark. Who taught him that sort of phrase?

“When exactly did you die again?”

You hummed in thought. “Decades ago.. I can’t recall.” 

Alastor’s permanent smile remains plastered on his face. “Men are soulless and willingly disobedient during my time! There were always reports of disloyalty in newspaper. I would know, I broadcasted them in my radio show!” 

You clicked your tongue playfully. “So much for someone who was a serial killer.”

His grin grew. "Haha, But I was not a vicious idiot darling!" 

“Oh? Did you happen to have any experiences with men in your li-“

A lightning struck at the hotel's electric circuit.  electricity buzzed and every power in the hotel was cut off. The only bit of light in your room came from the windows. 

"Shit, see this is why i fucking hate the rain." You panicked, shuffling around in the dark until a pair of hands grasped you from moving and hitting the furnitures. You look up and saw his glowing red eyes. 

When you finally stood still, he pulled his hands off from you. "Don't worry yourself. I'll take care of this." 

"Wait- You can't leave me here." 

Alastor hums a familiar tune, holding up his cane as he gave you his arm to take.

You hesitated at first, taking his arm before you both teleported to his radio station. 

"Why are we here?" You asked, looking around his personal building.

"Who did you think manages the electricity here? I can't let outsiders control our power supply, especially that excuse for a television head!" He opens a large electrical box, taking a glance at all of the smoked up wires. You waited there awkwardly, covering your ears in preparation for the next thunder strike. 

"You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you~" he sung to himself, working on the wires. 

"Frankie Valli's a classic." You spoke out. He's been humming the song for the whole week now.

“Couldn’t agree more darling! Apologies if it’s bugging you. I suppose the song is stuck in my head for some time.” he turned on the said music on his radio.

“How ironic! I remember my last theatre show was me dancing to this song.” You tapped your feet to the beat.

Alastor walks over to you, taking both of your hands that were covering your ears. “Let’s see if those dance moves are still in tact.” 

The music swept through the room as they danced together, moving enthusiastically while you try to hold in your laughter.

I love you baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you baby. to warm a lonely night.

I love you baby, trust in me when I say

You felt warmth spread throughout your entire being as Alastor spun you around. All the anxiousness from the on going storm washed away as you lead the dance, guiding him through a series of steps.

And there, in the midst of the music and the rhythmic beat, he saw something in you that he had never seen before. A determination, a drive, and a passion that left him chuffed.

The music faded away, and so did the rainstorm. You were quite pleased at this, looking at Alastor with a bright smile. "That was fun. Didn't even realized the power went back on halfway through the dance."

He tilt his head, planting a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. "It's been a pleasure. I suppose now you'll feel much better to lay off in bed?"

You nodded. Why of course, as from now on the heavy thunderstorms will only remind you of this unforgettable night with your beloved co worker.

[beauleifu]

Hello! Can you write a oneshot or a headcanon (platonic, ofc) about Macaque with a reserved but also very outgoing child? (like those kids that are calm and reserved but if you mention something they really like they just go off and start rambling all happy and excited)

I had this idea in my head for a little while, I think it'd be really funny and wholesome if he just appeared at Pigsy's Noodles w/ his child and everyone's like "wh- YOU'RE A DAD??? WHEN??? HOW????" and he just watches with that Tired Parent Look™ as his kid stares directly at MK and goes "YOU'RE THAT MONKIE GUY ON THE TV!!!"

Sorry for any errors! English is not my first language, I apologize for the long text aswell, I'm just an absolute sap for the "tired but loving dad" trope also you can totally delete my ask or skip it if you don't want to write it!! Thank you either way, your writing is wonderful :) !

All right! *cracks fingers, snaps neck- whoops-*

You got it anon! Sorry for not answering this ask sooner, I realized headcanons are easier to write than an actual oneshot considering the limited time I have to write nowadays. But I hope you enjoy, and thanks for the ask! <333

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MACAQUE X CHILD!READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Long ago, a wise old monkey had taken you under his wing, to train you and teach you the ways- okay, let's save the theatrics for later, that's Macaque's thing. Your father figure. Honestly, he's growing on you, and it's starting to show now that people are pointing it out.

TW: None!

HEADCANNONS

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Macaque doesn't normally take you somewhere where conflict is bound to arise. He'd prefer someplace more peaceful, like a park/museum/theater. Unless, of course, he's in the mood for adventure and will literally take you skydiving without a permit.

Totally the irresponsible dad. He's protective as FUCK, let's make that clear, but in the end he trusts you to take care of yourself

perhaps a bit too much, and even you think that

He'll encourage you to pet that snake

He'll give you the thumbs up if you wanted to climb to the top of the weather tower during a thunderstorm

Like "Go get 'em, (Y/N)! Make your father proud!"

With such a dramatic character when it comes to encouraging you, Macaque will become insanely tired. He'll be snoring on the couch and won't wake up even if you stacked all the furniture in the house on his back

Speaking of the house, he and you live far away from any danger

This guy didn't know jack shit about being a dad at first (you kind of hat to teach him, oh how the turns have tabled) But once he understood the basics, he took the reins, eager to impress you and earn your respect. Macaque isn't usually a sucker for developing any relationship with Earthly figures, but you were the only exception. He'd lay awake at night thinking if he's making the right choice, then slapping himself for even considering abandoning you. You are too precious.

Which is why he's totally, utterly wrapped around your little finger

So when you ask to get take-out at Pigsy's Noodles, it doesn't take much effort to sway his stoic resolve

"Dad. Pops. Papa. Father of mine," you say, grabbing his face, looking a lot older than you actually are. "Please!"

Since Macaque can't turn his face to the side (squished as it is), he sighs dramatically and closes his eyes. You catch the faint, irritated twitch of his tail, but that's about the only hint of Fed-Up Parent you can detect.

"(Y/N), Megapolis is miles away."

"You have shadow magic!"

"You can't just abuse my powers, especially now that you've decided to abuse yours," he grunts, albeit grinning at you. He' loosing.

Triumph fills your chest. "I can handle it! Uncle Pigsy would love to see me!"

"Uncle!?" Macaque splutters, finally escaping your grip. Shocked eyes blink down at you. "Sweetheart, you haven't even met Pigsy, you've only seen him from afar."

You blink up, flaunting those devil-may-care puppy eyes.

Oh, he hates it when you do that.

"Puh-lease! I'll do anything! i'll scratch your back! Do my chores before games! I-I'll stay out of your secret stash of peaches!" You gasp, flopping down on the soft carpet lining the floor. You consider the intricate pattern for a moment, then mutter under your breath; "Even though you said you hate those. . . ."

Macaque fixes you with a stern look. "You know about that, huh?"

"Mayyybe."

Like I said, not that much effort. The guy may be invulnerable to harm at best, but his immortality falls short under your tactics. Persuasive skills that he taught you to use.

Sucks how plans backfire, huh?

When you two do get to the shop, however, Macaque goes into full parent-mode

He doesn't care if you think it's uncool, you're holding his hand and that's that. He'd get you one of those child harnesses but thank the stars you'd convinced him you're worth more than such a humiliating child-control device.

So in you go, holding hands, Macaque glaring at anyone who spares you a curious glance.

When Macaque sees who's at the counter, he almost does a 180 out of there

It's MK.

Of all people.

He hasn't seen the two of you yet, though. You feel Macaque's paw tighten over your small, nimble fingers, and you can't help but squeeze back in return, asking a silent question.

It's times like these where you don't know what to do. You're still a child, even if this was your idea.

But then you spot who's at the counter

and At the same time, Pigsy comes 'round the corner with a giant tray of noodles- fit for the exact number of people surrounding the Monkie Kid. Suddenly, Macaque realizes who all is there.

This guy

Parent-Panic-Pro

The literal Monkey King is the first to turn head, eyes landing on Macaque first. You can tell instantly his fight-or-flight response just kicked in; shoulders tensing, teeth baring, eyes widening (oh yes, typical ex behavior- HAHA)

Then, all heads are turning.

And Monkey King's eyes land on you

Macaque steps in front of you, form tense and on high alert. "Heyyyy," he says, awkwardly.

The Monkey King tilts his head, perhaps confused as to why his old friend is protecting a little kid. Then he realizes. Poor guy connects the dots, lets out an unholy gasp of astonishment, and points and the both of you

"YOU. YOU- AND THEM- MACISTHATYOURKID-"

Pandemonium.

At least, in the most gentle context. MK and his friends do a double take, the Monkey King is gaping and trying to figure out who could ever love Macaque to result in this- and your dad just completely gives up. He gives you this look, like 'see why I was against bringing you here'

And you know. And your eyes say sorry, that you'll make it up to him later

Typical silent father/child communicating

(you guys are really good at that, communicating through your eyes or expressions. it helps in crowds)

That is, until your eyes fall on MK and realize for the first time that he's actually there

And Macaque's face falls into an impossibly disappointed facade (really, he's happy you're socializing) as you let go of his hand and prance right up to MK, eyes literal stars.

Thank goodness for MK, for he's kind and patient enough to let you blabble and gush on about how cool he is and how you've stayed up to date on the latest chaos he's incited (poor dude looks a bit downcast at that)

Funny how you went to such a well-behaved, shy kid to an energetic hyper-fixated gremlin in two seconds

All the while, Pigsy is listening, Monkey King corners Macaque and quietly demands answers (the two of them talk in the background for awhile as you socialize)

Noodles are served

There's just so many people in Pigsy's Noodles that the owner himself couldn't keep track of who ordered what, so everyone just got the same thing- and lots of it

In the end, you're all sitting down at the table (everyone had worked together to gather as many spare tables/chairs as possible to sit together at one huge-ass table)

You insisted you sit with Mei and MK in order to interrogate them about their adventures

OF course, you mean well, and they know that. And Macaque never pulls you aside because he likes seeing you like this, it makes him happy knowing you're indulging in the things you love, and he deosn't have the heart to tell you it's almost time to go home.

So you stay there for awhile, chatting with Mk and his friends

You get to know Pigsy (he doesn't mind being called your uncle, said at this point he's practically everyone's uncle or dad)

But alas

You're bit a child

And towards the end of the night, aftter everyone is stuffed full of noodles, you're conked out in your chair, slumped and snoring softly, eyes fluttering from dreaming

Everyone glances at you, how fucking adorable you are

Macaque straightens, clears his throat, says it's time for him to leave

Sun Wukong stops him for a moment, just to say

"Keep them safe, Mac."

Of course, like the #1 Dad he is, Macaque snorts. "I think I know more about raising a kid than you do, Wukong. I'll . . . see you out there."

Then he picks you up, carefully, so you stay sleeping, and walks out

but not before turning around to thank everyone for dinner

For once, they offer smiles (some are weaker and less meaningful than others, but props for trying. Macaque is kinda responsible for a lot of pain in their lives, anyways)

You don't register any of it, too full of noodles and new information regarding your idols

Macaque knows he'll never hear the end of it

Perhaps that's a good thing, considering the fond smile on his face as he gently carries you home, lays you in bed, and pulls the covers over your snoring form. He eagerly awaits the morning to which you'll wake him up excitedly ranting about tonight, about how you want to do it again

And he's wrapped around your little finger, so if course he'll listen to you

this guy would move the world for you

[nonnieapple]

Can I request for afk journey reinier x reader sfw and nsfw relationship headcanons. Love you work:⁠-⁠)

⛈️⚡️Reinier x g/n!Reader Headcanons⚡️⛈️

• (Reinier x g/n!Reader Headcanons)

• r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 1 4 1 2 w o r d s

• p o s t e d: 10.10.2024 🌧️ navigation

n o t e: thank you~ this was fun to write, i love this guy. he wasn't technically on my req list but i'll allow it, he should've been.

SFW:

• Dating, or even befriending, Reinier would be a miracle and a curse. You'd have to get over the whole... symmetry thing. I've got plenty of ideas and if anyone wants I'll expand on them, but I chose this one. 

• The "Fix This Guy's Perfectionism OCD" route! 

• You, the illustrious and eternally errand-running Magister Merlin, keep running into cases of things being duplicated for symmetry. 

• At first, it wasn't too detrimental. It was a slight bit stressful for the people who had to watch their town statues disappear. With the exception of Lyca, who found it beautiful. Good for her...? 

• Along the way, you met Talene and found the perfectionist culprit- Reinier. His obsession with symmetry ran deep, and even if his arrogance was understandable due to his good looks, his personality made him hideous. 

• Talene had chased him for a while. You ran into her many times more, and eventually, he duplicated buildings and entire towns.

• Reinier needed an intervention.

• How do you do an intervention on a demon? 

• You summon him, of course! 

• With the (totally not coerced) help of a farmer, you made patterns in Ryeham fields. Beautiful patterns, nearly perfect, yet slightly off. 

• Reinier appeared ENRAGED. 

• You had to restrain him, which almost took you and him out in the process. 

• You told him he did not have merely an obsession, but an illness of the mind that humans dealt with, too. (Humans didn't have the power to do the shit he did. Thank Dura for that.) 

• What ensued was the strangest thing you remembered doing. 

• His progress was slow. For the first month, you thought you'd go mad. Not to mention his mysophobia which was also an issue to get through. 

• You were not his therapist, you were his "handler"- keeping a muzzle on him with your magic. Besides celestials, no one was powerful enough to do so. 

• When he made enough progress, he was still himself (annoying & hot), though his murderous and more destructive tendencies were curbed well enough. 

• Point out his mismatched shoes and he will lose it.

• Point out his mismatching colors and he will try to break through the bonds on his magic to kill you. 

• You're not sure how it happened, but along the way, you tripped and fell in "love". 

• At first, it was pure physical attraction. Obvious and cheap. 

• But when you saw the way he admired snowflakes and the "perfect" knit of your clothes, you found him endearing. Make sure not to let him see the snow melt or a hem get frayed- that's a recipe for an episode. 

• Reinier used to be cool due to being a demonic being. Now, with his magic being held back, he accumulates it and it builds up as heat. He can't hold snowflakes anymore.

• You make some out of magic and hang them in his room. 

• His room in the Mystical House is asymmetrical. Exposure therapy and all. The therapist said it'd help him, but he still arranges the furniture weirdly. It can't be helped...

• Reinier LOVES hearing himself talk. He will yap on about actual nonsense and will repeat phrases in a symmetrical way, with perfect rhythm and syllable count. Unfortunately, he has no mouth to cover. 

• The way Reinier fell for you? Well...

• He did not confess until he was several months into living in your house. 

• You had to torture it out of him, going softly first, only asking him how he felt to various insulting answers. You started making his room uneven to piss him off.

• He clawed at your cloak, praying you to stop, and he finally spat out the words like they were poison.

• "Fine! I- gag- well isn't that a pretty word- I... 'like' you!" 

• You put the dresser back to where he had it. "I'm listening."

• "I see, now, that symmetry is not all there is to life. I'll never rid myself of the way I think, but, you're the second best thing to perfection, and I... feel what you humans would call love, towards you."

• You halted, something blooming in your chest. 

• That was the day you got together. You never put much of a label on your relationship. It was beyond simple words. 

• Reinier admires your magic. He says it's organized and the neatest, warmest magic he has ever encountered. Even though you're used to compliment his feel special because that bastard doesn't bother to lie. He supposed that that's what made him gravitate towards you, along with your unending patience and wisdom.

• If you do makeup (especially more artsy things) and mess up even a little, Reinier will offer- no- INSIST on fixing it. You'll usually accept because it's cute and he focuses hard. It's one of the only times he's truly calm. 

• Sometimes he adds different shapes to each side. Each time you celebrate internally. Therapy was worth it!!!

• You have to remind him that people are not less worthy due to being imperfect. If he gets stuck in one of those loops you bring out... The Spray Bottle (which is filled with water but is a reused vintage perfume bottle. You know the one, with the thang) 

• Long after he gets better (but he isn't cured. He's just Like That) you let him out of his quarantine. He'll tag along with you and you only. He doesn't care for other people.

• He's nice to the hamster familiars because if he isn't it's over for him. They're mildly scared of him. 

• If you let him out of his bonds your opponents will be COOKED. 

• And no one wants to mess with a 6'5 tall floating demon anyway...

• If you choose to get gay demon married Berial will try to crash the wedding and Reinier will be a bridezilla. The wedding? Immaculate. His attitude? Spray Bottle worthy. 

• He is terrible at cooking. He will summon an eldritch horror if in the vicinity of a kitchen, and he hates touching food with his hands and is generally sensitive to sensory input. That's why you shower daily and clean the house often, his fear never goes away completely and you accommodate it, sharing some similarities with him in that regard. 

• If you cuddle it has to be symmetrical. You are laying ON HIM and nowhere else, too bad that he's like a rock in softness.

• Hates kids. Too chaotic.

• Everyone is horrified at the pairing of Reinier x Magister Merlin. All that matters is that you're happy. 

• You act like an old couple. Constantly. 

• He might make jewelry for you similar to his if he gets bored. Which is often. 50% of your wardrobe is now created by him, not that you mind. 

• Temesia is especially horrified by your relationship. Dionel isn't surprised, and Valen finds it funny. Talene is glad he's domesticated because she doesn't have to deal with his BS.

• Reinier is all bark and no bite. With you around him, being cruel is not an option.

NSFW:

• The reproductive systems of (most) humans are symmetrical... Which fascinates him.

• He has no mouth, so it's mostly his hands doing the work. 

• Reinier can create genitals for himself if you're into that. He's in control of what they are, but they'll always be demonic in a way- spiked, shaped strangely, segmented, tentacles, etc. 

• If you're into degradation/praise you've met your match. Either dynamic works. 

• His horns look pretty pullable 

• TWO SETS OF ARMS??? TWO SETS OF A-

• Since he's strong and TWO SETS OF ARMS, he could easily hold you up in any way and position, and restrain you easily. Two sets of arms, guys. 

• Since he has claws, I imagine he'd be into scratching you and sadism. It fits his lore.

• Hear me out- he likes bondage, creating patterns out of rope or magic on his partner. Non-sexually, too.

• If he takes longer to work through his mysophobia, he might use magic and not touch you at all to please you. 

• He doesn't have an inherent drive to have sex, he does it for you, and you're the only one who makes him feel any of that attraction and desire.

• As a stickler for rules, he can be rather obedient. 

[lets-all-calm-down-a-bit]

Hiii, i absolutely adore your style parent hcs. Do you have some more?

YESSS I WAS WAITING FOR ANOTHER ONE!!!! YAYYY

1: Kyle is called Dad or Abba (Dad more commonly because he is used to it with his own father, but his mom encourages Abba when she visits because she originally wanted Kyle to use that as a kid as well)

2: Stan used to be Uncle Stan since Stan was originally less of a co-parent and more of a friend that visits often and spoils the kids rotten. This stopped the moment Mordecai walked in on Kyle and Stan kissing. That was probably the most awkward conversation Stan and Kyle have had with the kids in their lives. For a short period of time (about a month) he was just "Stan", but that quickly faded into Papa. It was really cemented in when he officially moved in with the family.

3: From the time Kai was born till he was around 6, Stan had his own apartment. He would spend most of his time at Kyle's house and with the family, but he had such a busy work life that he didn't want to settle down and make anything official. He didn't want to end up being a practically absent father due to his schedule. Kyle hated this, but understood where his worries were coming from. It was their most significant topic of conflict until Stan finally got it through his head that he was pretty much already a father to these kids, and he was doing really damn well. The arguments typically go as follows:

Kyle: Come on Stan, you practically live here already. Why don't you move in?

Stan: But what if I'm a bad Dad?? What if my work gets in the way and I end up being a shitty father??? I just can't do that to them 😫😭

Kyle: ...

Kyle: You take Kai to the arcade every weekend. He literally calls you Papa.

Stan: sTiLL!!!!😫😭😥💔

4: When Celine was a year and a half old, Stan finally moved in with Kyle. He was still constantly worried that he wouldn't be a good enough father, but he no longer let that affect how close he was to the family. He put his whole heart into being the best dad he could be.

5: Kyle was the one to get the kids enrolled in school and fill out all the important paperwork. Stan's a little scatterbrained when it comes to stuff like that, but he takes them to school and picks them up every day so they don't have to ride the "stinking ass-sweat hormone pit" that is the bus. Those are Kai's words, not his. He got a whole lecture from Stan for that one.

6: Kyle may not be the best at cooking, but he can make one thing better than anyone you've ever met (except his mother.) He got a book of family recipes from his mother, and every Passover he makes the best matzo ball soup you've ever had in your life.

7: Stan stands by the fact that you can find the best shit at thrift stores, so he tends to shop there for furniture, knickknacks, and clothing. Kyle on the other hand... He's the guy who religiously shops at REI and other overpriced outdoors stores because he thinks they're neat. He goes camping, hiking, and everything under the sun just so he can have an excuse to shop at these places without Stan nagging him about how unnecessary it is. Those kids have the nicest mother fucking winter coats you've seen in your life. Kyle just came back home one day after being out for a few hours with two 200-dollar winter coats for the kids. Stan was flabbergasted, to say the least. Kyle tried to defend himself by explaining that the coats were listed to be the safest in cold temps, but honestly, there's no way to defend that rationally lmao.

[wardenmages]

Okay so after that "didn't die when they should have died" post earlier I just rambled for several paragraphs into a semi-coherent fic about Gavin's PTSD in Detroit Reawakening and Detroit Evolution, with some mention of Detroit Absolution/D3. This is a fair amount of headcanon as well as my interpretation of certain scenes.

So here is some musing on Gavin's presentation of PTSD and how healing isn't linear and doesn't end but sometimes the people we love make it a little bit easier to live with it, and that sometimes healing means leaving situations we didn't realize were hurting us because it was better than where we started.

-----------

Gavin startles easily and violently. One time a rookie who didn't know any better tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around and decked them in the middle of the bullpen before his brain kicked in to follow his fist. He wears a heavy jacket because it muffles the world around him into a dull ache rather than a constant prickling on his skin down to his bones.

It's easy to tell when he's pulled an all-nighter from the pile of disposable coffee cups on his desk - he didn't have time to clean out a mug every time he went back for more. He's even less patient and understanding than usual. On particularly bad days, people watch him roll his shoulders and touch the back of his head to chase away bruises that healed on the surface years ago.

He's made a name for himself handling drug cases, but he can see Fowler wishes he'd take anything else. It makes him bristle and dive even further into his cases, because fuck Fowler if he doesn't trust Gavin, Gavin earned this. As the faces become less and less familiar, Fowler stops giving him that look whenever he goes in for supervision, and Gavin doesn't know if that means he finally proved himself or if Fowler was just waiting for Gavin to run out of options to run.

He keeps just about everyone at arm's length, except Chen and Miller. He's known Tina for years, since he was still an intern and she was working three jobs to pay for college. It's easy to like Chris, who is one of the most genuine guys Gavin's ever met. He jokes to himself that he doesn't know why Chris became a cop of all things, but he doesn't know why he's a cop either, so he lets it sit. Neither of them complain when he smokes, they don't push beers or shots into his hands at the bar, and push back when he's being a shit. For about a week he has a crush on Chris and his big cheesy smile that lights up the room and holy fucking shit he's got it bad, but he pushes it back because he only has two friends at thirty years old and he knows he's not exactly fun to be around.

Sometimes kids come through the station in his cases and it fucks him up for days. He stares at their records, a mess of foster homes, charges written in and then crossed off if they didn't stick, and notes from the overloaded caseworkers who can't even spell the kids' names. He thinks about his apartment and how it feels so big but so small at the same time, there's a spare bedroom he just uses for storage that he could clean out, he has enough savings to get furniture and shit. He keeps a tab open with the sign-up to get certified to foster. He thinks about making the system better from the inside.

He knows that's not how it works, not in the real world. The kids move on to the next house or their parents, and Gavin closes the tab and tries not to look at his badge. The next time he sees their names he pretends he never thought about them and that arresting them actually means something.

He doesn't sleep much, maybe three to four hours a night. It's impossible to fall asleep when you know it's not going to last long before your own brain betrays you. He wakes up from another nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, and just curls in on himself until he can force his body back into submission. It's a battle of wills more than something he needs to stay alive.

Nines helps. God, Nines makes everything feel lighter, and he stops sinking from the weight around his neck. It's still heavy and he can't help but bite whatever hand is held out to him, but it's more than bearable, he's alive.

His second near-death experience, lying on the floor of the precinct clinging onto consciousness through the numbing mess of pain and nerves at their breaking point, he nearly fades out just to make it finally stop. He wakes up in the hospital hours later terrified at how easy it was to just slip away.

He won't let it happen again. He's nearly died twice - really, truly close to death, not just in danger - and it didn't take. He's too stubborn to go out, not when he finally gives a shit about his own life and the people around him do more than just tolerate him and his friends are all moving forward and... he wants to move forward too.

So he quits his job alongside his partner. He doesn't push down how he feels about it, how as grateful as he'll always be he feels used by the system that kicked him down in the first place. He works with the kids at the shelter and talks them off the ledge. He doesn't foster, he's still adjusting to living with Nines and both of them love their privacy too much, but sometimes the kids stay the night with permission if they're struggling at the shelter. A few stop by their apartment first before even approaching the shelter.

He doesn't always know what to do or say, how to help, but he tries. He tries, and he tells them he better not read their name in the news unless it's for some kind of award. Newspaper clippings aren't a thing anymore, but he prints them out whenever he sees them, kids taking time to hang out at one of the senior centers or work in one of the urban gardens or a mentoring program with some androids, anything good. He tacks them up on the wall of his small, shitty office that never gets warm enough or cold enough but Nines brought in a couple of his plants and there's some art on the walls from Tayla and a bunch of framed photos around the place so it feels more like home.

He wakes up from a nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, to Nines pressed against his back holding his hand and massaging gentle circles into the tender skin where his prosthetic meets his hand. He clenches his jaw and tries to focus on the way Nines' fingers feel, the gentle glow from the edge of his skin overlay, his simulated heartbeat and breathing that Gavin knows he's amping up so Gavin can feel it.

After a few minutes, he closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep to the sound of the cat scratching at the door frame, and breathes.

[nonbinarylocalcryptid]

MAG10 - Vampire Killer

*turns around in the most ugliest coolest yellowest office chair like a Bond villain, petting a baguette-shaped cushion* so, you came here from MAG9 without expecting the whiplash. Don't worry, you are not alone lmao

Trevor Herbert is like a homeless Chuck Norris, a shaggy Terminator, a Van Helsing lite (the Hugh Jackman one, not the original). He looks in your head like the dog in The Lady and The Tramp but in human version.

And the very first thing this mf says when he writes his statement is "I've been procrastinating this shit for 50 years, but hey, I finally came to the Magnus Institute". So better late than never and all that jazz.

Quoooooooting timeeeee:

"I hear someone even made me a page on the Internet and it got a few thousand likes. I don’t know exactly what that means but it sounds nice." - Trevor Herbert, July 10th 2010

Aww, doesn't he sound nice? :D

"Obviously that’s not why I’m here, though, is it? No, I’m here because I have also dedicated my life to finding and killing vampires." - Also f*cking Trevor

Sorry u wHAT

" (...) but I do not have proof to give you except for the vampire teeth that I will leave with this statement." - Trevor "I brought you a souvenir" Herbert

" I killed my first vampire in 1959." - Trevor Herbert, THE LEGEND THE MAN THE MYTH

You wish you sound as badass xD

"I was hit by a stale, coppery smell that I did not recognise as old blood at the time, since I was barely 16 and did not have then the experience I have now." - Trevor, barely 16 but already a poet

I find upsetting how many statement givers were so young they didn't know they were smelling blood.

"The furniture and wallpaper had clearly not been changed in many decades, and a thick layer of dust covered everything." - Trevor, 16, also an offended interior designer

LOL the landlord when he tells you " I just painted everything, it's all new"

"I remember wondering whether Sylvia McDonald walked exactly the same route through the house always, as I saw other clear lines of passage in the rooms we passed through." - Trevor "WTF" Herbert

" It was 1968, I remember because that was the year United won the European Cup, (...)" - Trevor "Yes, I'm British, why u asking?" Herbert

"I do not know if you’ve ever felt your blood being sucked out of you, but I would not recommend it." - By Trevor, 0/5, no stars

"Regardless, there is substantial evidence to support the version of events told by Mr. Herbert in all aspects except the vampirism." - Jon Sims, April 13th 2016

He really said "I believe everything except the vampire bullshit" XD

"(...) It may be that they take Mr. Herbert’s statement far more seriously than I do." - Also Jon

He sees that a lot of government and law people takes this statement seriously and goes "hm how weird, why tho, it's all bullshit"

Small review:

The vampires in the tma universe are so freaking weird, disturbing of course, personally I can't really tell if they are scary tho, but I'm certain they are a mystery.

Gotta say, RIP Nigel, he seemed nice :(

I must admit Trevor is quite an interesting figure, he's intelligent and resourceful, can do much with almost nothing and put together every piece of information he has in a way he can reach a satisfactory conclusion. And then he just sticks with it. There are these monsters, which I know how to kill, and so I do it. Simple. Efficient. Practical as hell.

This is also the second time going clubbing has ended horribly for someone in tma, and honestly? Wtf

This guy just die in the break room, like, lmao. He really said "no time like the present, may as well reach supersaiyan state in that couch over ther", and he fucking did it

And then Jon ends everything by showing a lot of evidences while acting the sceptic part and it's so goddamn funny. He should be a comedian.

General overview:

Vibe: this one is so fucking wild, nice homeless grandpa ends up being the modern Van Helsing and "dies" in a couch at paranormal research institute. Iconic

Horror: there are cryptids in it, that's horror genre coded

Audio: pretty ASMR in general

Humour: hilarious Terminator Grandpa, feat.Jon being Jon

Score: 10/10

[danicoro]

my fucking body hurts so bad. we got <24 hr notice that the pest control company is coming to spray in our apartment for fucking c0ckr0aches (AGAIN!!), everyone else on our floor apparently got a fucking email on aug 9 but not us!!!!

like we're moving at the end of october and we've given our notice as such but HELLO? BITCH WE STILL LIVE HERE FOR THE NEXT TWO MONTHS, MAYBE DO YOUR FUCKING JOB FFS...

i had to leave work early and my wife and i had to bust our balls literally since (checks notes) 11:30 this morning to basically pack up our entire apartment and move all of our furniture away from the walls so they can spray the baseboards.

the best part is i know they're going to come back in 3-4 weeks to do it again!!

and i mean it's good that they're (FINALLY) spraying in our unit because we literally had (checks notes) 4-5 ADULT R0ACHES in the fucking kitchen on sunday night that i had to nuke out of existence with extreme fucking prejudice, and who knows how many babies. i'm so fucking tired and my body hurts so fucking bad.

and my wife who is dis@bled and has chr0nic pa1n had to spend the whole day helping me and holding my sanity together and they're completely fucked up now, and then to add insult to that injury they have to leave the house for 4-6 hours (minimum) tomorrow because of the spray, and they've now lost out on TWO (2) whole fucking days of work, because we weren't given ANY god damn notice!!

like, i cannot fucking express in words how god damn PRESSED i am about this situation!!!!!

i will say i'm proud of how much we were able to accomplish, given the fucking circumstances, but it certainly wasn't my intent to live out of plastic storage containers for the next two months before we officially move :/

i digress, we didn't get to do literally ANY decompression today either, except to watch like idk 15 t1k t0ks while we ate supper :/

and like i'd take the day off from work tomorrow for the stress of it except i can't even be at home to decompress because they're spraying so it's like

oh, okay!! i may as well be at the damn office. i'm just really glad my boss was understanding when i told him abt the situation and that i needed to take the rest of the day to deal w this shit.

and the best/worst part about the actual shit we did today is that the ONLY REASON WE EVEN FUCKING KNEW THE DUDES WERE COMING TOMORROW WAS BECAUSE THE BUILDING SUPER CAME BY THE CHECK AND MAKE SURE WE WERE "READY" AT LIKE 8:30 THIS MORNING

whatever, we did it basically to the specifications that were required, there's not much else we can do at this point... and at some point your brain just shuts down w this stuff, so here we are... can't even enjoy my "clean" house, either, because i can't put my fucking dishes away unless we "put some newspaper or rags down under them" plus they're coming back again in a few weeks to do a follow-up treatment and then in october we're moving anyway so it's like welp!! there it is!!

anyway fuck this landlord forever amen

[the-haunted-office]

Thursday can't even feel actual relief because as they approach her, her sense of panic seems to spike instead of recede, a counterintuitive thing given logically she senses relief in her mind - it's just that her body isn't cooperating. There's a miscommunication going on here between her mind and body that's causing her to start breathing harder, verging on hyperventilating, and while all this is going on she won't let anybody touch her baby, even if they're trying to help. It's like some maternal instinct has ramped up to 11 against her will in that exact moment.

Harvey modeling how to breathe helps though. It gives her something to focus on, a prompt to follow, and so she does, and then she starts to calm down, although she feels hot and faint and is still holding Mae, who is now beginning to fuss because she can sense something is happening by now.

It's the baby's fussing that gets Thursday to settle down and focus more. She's so focused on getting Mae to calm down she doesn't notice anything about the house, except that she's being sat down on something soft, and doesn't notice the sphygmomanometer being placed around her arm until it starts to constrict on her. And she certainly doesn't catch a single bit of the awkward exchange between the two men, not outside of the fact that there's baby formula. That's all her brain catches and latches onto in the moment and with that she finally breathes and actual sigh of relief.

Thank god, her baby isn't going to go hungry. That's all that matters. It doesn't matter what the house or furniture is like or what her blood pressure is whatever else, all that matters is that her baby has food and is safe.

With that, the last few minutes are all but gone from her memory, wiped across her mind in a smudge of mostly forgotten details, and she looks up at the two men, with something between confusion and gratitude and barely concealed fear.

"Thank you, thank you, I'm- I'm sorry about all this, thank you, I was really scared she- I was- I didn't know how long it'd be before I could find milk for her," she says, taking in a big gasp of air and trying not to break down again. Finally, she undoes the straps holding Mae in places and takes her out of the carrier, then takes off the carrier and sets it aside, and holds the baby against her shoulder. Then she takes the bottle and settles her into a position to offer it to her, which she goes ahead and takes, thus giving the adults the space to talk more.

"Nice to meet you two. I mean, under the circumstances," she says with a sigh, feeling suddenly very tired although she's still alert. "I'm Thursday and this is Mae. She four months old, almost. Sorry if I'm all over the place, I swear I'm not normally a wreck like this, it's just this has been a mess. My- yes, my office, not like, my coworkers or anything like, no, but my literal office, like, the building."

Under normal circumstances she'd have laughed at Nathan's comment, found it the funniest thing in the world. But right now, with the way she's coming down from her adrenaline high, it's all she can do to form complete sentences.

"It's- It's a bit of a long story, and it sounds crazy to a lot of people, but- ugh- sorry, I'm just, it's just- emotions, right? I'm okay, I think, just- sorry." She pauses, takes a breath, and then pushes on. "It's this whole multiverse thing. I'm not from your world. I'm from a different one. And I accidentally got into yours because of this mess going on with the- the dimensions around ours. It's- It's a big mess, guys, I'm sorry, we're trying to fix it, but in the meantime things like this happen. I've never- This is the first time this has happened to me when I've had my daughter with me, though, and jesus shitting christ, I thought- sorry, I'm sorry, I'm a mess right now."

She shifts, shifting the baby with her, into a more comfortable position, trying to offer a smile to her, hoping that will calm her down. It helps, but only a little, because they're still sitting on some strangers' couch and she doesn't know how long it'll take for her to get back home.

Harvey immediately recognises her panic, cautiously rushing to her side so he can aid her in any way.

"Hey. Hey. It's okay." He quietly speaks in a calming tone. "Take a deep breath in. Hold it for three, and then slowly exhale." Harvey replicates this for her as an example. As he guides the pair up the steps and towards the farmhouse, Nathan hurries ahead of them, opening the front door for her and Harvey.

"Come in, we'll get you out of the sun and take good care of you."

The farmhouse consists of four different rooms; two bedrooms, a bathroom, and the main room with a kitchen and living room merged together. There's a smell of freshly baked bread that lingers throughout the home. The TV remains on, with the news channel playing quietly, consistently repeating the key news from the country.

Having guided her into their farmhouse, Harvey rushes off to the spare bedroom while Nathan takes over, guiding her to the saggy yet incredibly comfortable couch in front of the fireplace. A few moments later, Harvey returns with his doctors bag, filled with all the necessary tools to check her over. It takes him mere seconds to pull out a sphygmomanometer.

"I-I'll run to Pierre's." Nathan speaks as he leaves Thursday's side and heads toward their bedroom. "I'll get some baby formula, and some baby food and-"

"No need." Harvey replies as he straps the cuff around her arm. He grabs the tube with the small, inflatable bulb on the end and connects it to the cuff. "T-there's uh. S-some in the cupboard. Above the refrigerator." It's clear he's nervous about admitting that. There's silence from the other room before the footsteps begin to make their way back.

"I'm sorry. We what?" Nathan asks again, confirming what he heard. Harvey's face is tinged with a soft pink and is paired with this nervous smile.

"Yes. Uh. Um. Yeah. G-go make it for this lovely lady while I check her blood pressure." Before Nathan can ask any more questions, Harvey has slipped his stethoscope on and has begun to check over Thursday.

As he watches the number on the gauge increase, Harvey attempts to replicate his breathing technique from before. He then begins to release a small amount of pressure from the cuff, still remaining to keep an eye on the gauge.

"Okay, it's high." Harvey mumbles as he takes the stethoscope out of his ears and releases the pressure in the cuff. "Nothing extreme... but that's to be expected when you're panicked." Nathan approaches them, holding a baby bottle out for Thursday to take. Harvey catches a glimpse of this and averts his gaze from Nathan for a moment. Turning his attention to the sweet baby stapped up to Thursday. He waves at Mae, with a big smile on his face.

"Well, that's good." Nathan speaks with a warm smile. "Now that we have you and your bub comfortable, I'm Nathan, and this." Nathan gestures to Harvey, who is doing his best to entertain Mae. "Is my husband. Dr. Harvey."

Nathan sits on the armrest of the couch, looking over Thursday and Mae. In the corner of his vision, he can see Harvey continue to make a fuss over Mae.

"You said your office dropped you here?" Nathan asks as he turns his attention to her. "Is that like a hazing ritual or something odd? So glad I left that office life behind..."

[prismatales]

Comfort

All my love and gratitude goes to @sugacookiies, @pixxiesdust and @hawks-senseis for beta-reading this, you guys were some of the greatest help I've ever had! ❤

Pairings: Bakudeku x Reader

Warning: Tw:Depression, Tw:Suicidal thoughts, angst, fluff and comfort.

Fingertips slam a frantic yet steady pace against the keyboard, your eyes go back and forth between each paragraph with a growing sense of panic. All your senses are running on nothing more but pure anxiety and stress, not even the thought of eating something crosses your mind as the one and only thing to worry about seems to be this specific assignment.

Neither of them can remember the last time they saw you in another spot of the house that wasn't that chair before the computer, sure sometimes you take a break to go to the bathroom, but sleeping? That word doesn't seem to have a meaning in your vocabulary.

Except for that one time you fell asleep on the couch for less than 30 minutes before startling yourself awake and jumping away from the plush cushion to keep working.

Both Midoriya and Bakugo knew how important it was to complete your thesis, but was it worth it when your health and body is on the edge of giving up? They both know how badly this kind of routine can end up affecting your health.

The last time you got this stressed it ended up fucking up your stomach all the way from the esophagus to the intestines. The whole digestive system was so affected it started to feel like your stomach was literally burning itself into nothingness from the gastritis you developed. You had to get treatment for two whole weeks, which was right before your high school finals, and it was one of the worst experiences you've ever had to go through.

There's a reason a huge portion of people going through College ends up feeling dead on the inside, the overwhelming amounts of work, spending so much time in the library one could literally claim they live there, assignments and impossible amounts of field work, all of that could be more than enough things happening at the same time to cause plenty of people to go insane. And if that was bad enough, preparing your Thesis was like one of the deadliest of trials.

Just from the look on your face, it was obvious you're starting to develop another health trouble just like that time, the tips of your fingers start pressing right on the spot above your stomach with a face full of discomfort.

Deku's the first one to see that and in less than five minutes he's already outside on his way to get some medicine, he doesn't think twice about using One for All to go faster. 

Everyone in the apartment was more than used to hear mumbling during the day, courtesy of your beloved Deku, but not even Bakugo was prepared to hear you of all people mumbling such dark things the very next day, when the stress began taking a harder toll. He could hear every single word loud and clear even when he's standing near the kitchen counters at the other side of the house.

"Why do I even bother?...It's not like anything I do even matters..." He can hear the the long sigh followed by more self hatred while he's stirring the noodles for dinner. "Sometimes I wonder if people would even notice that I'm gone...hahaha...I wanna die"

"...! That's it!" The wooden spoon gets slammed roughly against the marble counter, searching through his pocket Bakugo pulls out his phone to text Deku, who's already on his way home from patrol.

It takes less than an hour for the two of them to be there right besides you trying their best to comfort their shaking and panicked S/O, it makes them feel useless seeing how much you're struggling to hold on to the remains of your mental stability.

And when they hear the next course of muttering they know things are just about to get worse unless they do something about it.

"I can't do this anymore...I just can't," The tiny voice coming out of your mouth was heartbreaking. Your whole body is trembling uncontrollably as Midoriya walks up behind the chair, he lifts your whole body so he can take you to the bedroom, that way you could finally get some well deserved rest and calm down, in the meanwhile Bakugo goes back into the kitchen to fetch you something to drink.

Their dynamic was simple and yet effective, most of the time Izuku tends to be the one calming both of you through words, if that's not enough to help he's trying to find another solution to the problem through physical actions. Katsuki on the other hand tends to prefer being the one letting his actions speak for themselves first, even through the smallest of gestures he's always looking out for the both of you, in a reverse context to Deku, when his actions are not enough he's trying to make an effort to comfort you with his words.

Everything came crashing down inside your head like a landslide in the middle of a storm, bringing chaos and despair from every direction. It's easy to recognize the signs of your depression kicking in due to all the work piling up at once, and they're aware you're one of the most dedicated and passionate persons when it comes to your studies.

Midoriya tried to lay you down into the soft mattress and walk away to get that blanket they bought specifically for this type of occasion, but his shirt is quickly clutched into a tight grip, the broken sobs are barely audible to someone not paying enough attention have him on high alert as he realizes you've already started crying.

He has no other choice but to ignore his quest for the blankets and sits back on the bed. His back rests against the headboard while you're laying on your side, face resting softly against his well-toned chest, your body surrounded by his own arms that hold your shaking body against his with the hope that it can help you relax.

Bakugo comes into the room shortly after, carrying your favorite cup steaming with some nice and warm drink, your favorite judging by the glorious smell coming out of the cup in small puffs.

He carefully passes the cup to the green haired man sitting in bed before walking to the corner of the room and towards a dark gray, medium sized basket where the additional blankets are kept, rummaging through the furniture he finds one of the biggest, fluffiest and softest blanket of them all before walking back towards the bed. 

It takes you awhile to process what's actually happening because of the storm running through your head. But eventually, between the reassuring words and sweet whispering, the shaking and the crying slowly, but very slowly starts toning down until nothing but a small whimper can be heard every now and then through your bedroom. 

In less than a few minutes you've already been wrapped in that beloved blanket while resting between two warm and fit bodies, leaning back against the headboard with a comforting drink in hand.

"Are you feeling any better?" Izuku's voice is soft and sweet, just in case there's something still bothering your mind, at the same time one of Katsuki's hands is busy rubbing circles in the section between your shoulders in a steady rhythm, the feeling of his calloused and scarred hand touching that portion of skin helps relaxing your exhausted self at an almost exaggerated level. The last thing they want is for you to have another breakdown.

You want to reply but your mouth quickly opens and closes, so all you can manage to do is give them a soft nod in response, too tired to even try and talk to your sweet boyfriends. 

Sometimes the negative thoughts come during these kinds of moments to try and bring torment. It makes you wonder if one day they'll get tired of this and leave after realizing you're nothing more than a hindrance.

"Don't even think about it, Dumbass," Katsuki growls from his spot at your left side "I recognize that look on your face when I see it, you think you're worthless don't you?" That hand behind you makes its way to your shoulder, pulling your whole body towards him and positioning you in a way that makes your head rest on top of his well toned shoulders. For someone who's body is so nicely sculpted, the place where your head lays is one of the most comfortable places where somebody could rest.

"You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. You've always been someone who rarely allows small shit like this get the best of them" Katsuki's hand had long ago left your back to run his fingers through your hair, the friction against your locks of hair and scalp has a soothing effect that relaxes everything from your whole body to your mind.

A small tear manages to escape, but this time is out of relief and happiness for literally having two of the most wonderful lovers by your sides. The exhausted smile that spreads over your face sends the both of them into a state of relief.

"What did I do to deserve you both?" 

Deku lets out a soft laughter while Katsuki just smirks in satisfaction.

"Existing." 

MASTERLIST

@t-amajiki @undead0relived @shoobirino @bnha-ra @godtieruwu @mysticalite @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @unbreakableeiji @savagetrickster

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

BUSINESS AND PLEASURE

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Chibs Telford’ daughter!Reader

“What if you should move to Santo Padre for two months...”

Chapter one.

Word count: 3.4k

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif credits: @angels-reyes.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader and partner in crime with this one, @chibsytelford 💘

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @dazzledamazon @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @sammskellington 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Since you've been forced to move from Glasgow to Charming, your life has been a roller coaster with noisy falls into hell. Some days you were fine, the rest you were only available to create chaos around you. Your mother died because of a terminal disease, after fighting for two years, and the last time you saw your father before that it was when you were a child. Came to live with him after twelve years without no contact, except for a few calls every month, it was hard. Harder than he could imagine. 

The first days you were locked in the room he enabled to you in his house, where you only had a bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe. No picture, no colors around, nothing. It was kinda depressing. At least, he tried. He tried to re-build the good relationship you two have had in the past, before your mother kicked his ass out of Scotland, when Clay said he needed him at California, with the Sons'. 

Filip used to cook your favourite dishes, having had to learn to cook before. At first you only ate two or three bites, until one morning when you woke up hearing him screaming in scottish. You've never heard him so angry, and that scared you. Barefoot and silently, you went out of your room, sticking your head by the door frame of the kitchen. Unbelievable. He was arguing with his phone. Specifically with YouTube. You could see how he was watching a recipe of baked fish. It sounded easy, right? The problem was the sauce. Apparently he forgot to add some ingredients, and he had to repeat it from the start.

“Shit!” He shouted hitting the marble countertop, supporting his fist on it with his head down and a sigh in his mouth. “Fuckin' pepper and fuckin' lemon”.

“I don't like”. You said in a whisper, getting out of your hiding place. 

He turned at you frowned and upset, leaning against the furniture. Cross-armed, he shook his head with his gaze on the floor. You knew how frustrated he was, trying to kick you out of that sadness that it was consuming you. You lost your mother, you had to move out of your country, from the cold to the heat. And you truly hated sunny days. 

“I just... wanna make you feel like you're at home”. He said kinda desperately, scratching his head hard, completely disheveled. “I know this is not Scotland, nor your house. It's ok if you miss it, but this situation is killing me too. So, please, give me a break...”

You heard every word he told you, feeling the same knot he felt on his chest, and his voice about to drown in tears. You walked slowly towards him, looking inside your head for the correct things to say.

“I like the way you cook, but you scared the shit out of me, 'cause I didn't know you were shouting at YouTube”. You thought maybe some kind of joke could help, while he was holding your hands. “I don't like pepper, nor lemon, so it's fine. Maybe... we could have lunch together, if you're not busy with the club”.

“Fuc' da' club, caileag”. For the first time, you saw him smiling and it was amazing. “Do you think everything will be fine?” He sounded sad, simply sad. But you nodded without any doubt.

“We will be fine, athair”.

That was all he needed to hear. Chibs leaned towards you, placing a hand behind your head to leave a kiss on your forehead. Your hands held on his waist in a warm hug that you were wanting to give him since you arrived to Cali.

━━━━━━ (One year later) ━━━━━━

But what happened next was totally unexpected. You hear Happy talking with his prospect, around the corner of the workshop, about a dangerous mission they have to take care of, keeping them for two months out of Charming. And by Chibs decision, you're not coming. But he didn't tell you anything about it, before. Walking in the front yard, you find six motorbikes and a van you don't recognize from your charter, but belong to an MC. You're angry, so angry. Your steps are heavy and big, going faster to the clubhouse, taking off the rings of your fingers to keep them inside the pocket. You open the door suddenly, without warning the men who seems mexican sitting closer to your father. You only can see that fucking scottish who made a promise he's not gonna keep. And he sees the fury burning in your orbs. 

“Oh, shit”. It's everything he can say before one of your fists go straight to his face.

“Woah, woah, take it easy, chamaca!” One of the unknown man talks, trying to walk next to you, until you point it at him with the gun you had tucked under your shirt. All the men raise their hands with their eyes so much opened, letting you know that they're not gonna interfere again.

Time have passed. Some wounds has been closed and you have got used to the heat of the coast. Now, you're not who you used to be. SAMCRO changed you, having its good things and its bad things. You lost all the innocence you had, learning to defend yourself by fighting body-to-body and shooting weapons of different calibers. Happy and Tig usually try to catch you by surprise hitting you, but your faster than their old asses, blocking every hit that comes from nowhere. And sometimes you ‘play’ paintball with Juice on his free day. You're one of the Redwood family, being included in every mission one way or another, working hand by hand with the prospect; with the minimal difference that your father is your sponsor. This gives you two some problems because of the strong character you have inherited from him. And there are some times when you end up being beaten. The crew is used to it.

You turn to your father, who is rubbing his right cheek between some groans, supporting a hand on the pool table. You're breathing distressed with your eyes full of tears. You know how it works. When he leaves Charming, you don't have any notices for almost one week. You live every day with the pain of not knowing if he's still alive or not. Two months is too long. You can't even live without him at this point of your life, how are you supposed to do it?

“You promised me!” You yell at him pointing your chest with your own forefinger. “You said ‘us against the world’! You said it!”

Your voice is breaking, drowned by the tears that run down your face and your neck.

“You're a fucking liar! You're doin' the same you did thirteen years ago!” Yes, you can see how your words are affecting him, but you don't care. 

“Baby, listen...” He tries to give some steps towards you, receiving a push on his chest.

“I don' wanna hear more bullshit”. Putting the gun again behind your back, you turn to the front door, with a slight pause next to the other charter. “By the way”. You stare to the man you pointed seconds ago. “Next time I'm talking to my father, you shut the fuck up...” Reading his patch, you raise your eyes at him. “Presidente”.

You slam the door shut after you leave, seeing Happy next to your motorbike. He knows you know what is gonna happen by the tears running your cheeks. But even if you don't wanna talk with him, being your confidant since you came to Charming, he wraps strongly your body with his arms before you can run away from him. Crying inconsolably, you hide your face on his chest without moving your arms, only supporting your weight against him. Happy rest his chin on your head with a sigh, 'cause he knows well how much you suffer when your father attends a mission out of town.

“Are you leaving too?” You finally ask, even when you don't wanna hear the answer. He nods slowly, cleaning your tears with his long fingers.

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll try to write you”. He says hoarsely. “I'm sure you didn't let Chibs explain himself, but listen… Not even my prospect is coming. It's really dangerous for you two, we're gonna be ok, (Y/N)”.

“Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“They're Mayans, from Santo Padre. Oscar and Canche ‘family’. We can't leave you here, alone, without any protection. So, Chibs asked them to take care of you while we're out”.

Now you understand what's happening. It's suppose you should move from Charming to the south Cali, surrounded by men you don't know. Leave your house, again. Your cry appears again, shaking your head with some sobs stuck on your throat.

“Baby, listen, listen”. Happy try to have your attention cupping your face between his hands. “They're good men, they're gonna take care of you. And Canche will go to Santo Padre every week to see you”.

“I don' wanna go, Happy. I wanna go with you, please”. You beg in tears, with your lips trembling.

“(Y/N), you can't”. He sentences, trying not to sound too rude. He snort closing his eyes for a second. “Listen, they also have a car scrapping. You can work there. You like cars and you studied to be mechanic. 'Am sure these two months gonna' pass so fast that you're not gonna notice it”.

The front door of the club house gets opened. You turn for a while, just to see how the men gets out of it. You sigh, looking at Happy again. And you nod, even when you don't want to do it. Pulling yourself away from him, you're heading towards your motorcycle. In silence, after fastening the helmet, you start the engine. If you have to leave Charming you wanna do it as soon as possible. So, it's time to pack your stuff.

And that is what you're doing, when you hear your father's keys opening the door. His footsteps coming close to you, watching sideways how he leans against the door frame arm-crossed. Your basic clothes are already inside the suitcase on the bed, closing the zip after checking again that you have taken everything you could need. In the bag next to it, you keep your laptop, your headphones and all the chargers, in addition to other things.

“Please, talk to me”. Chibs says, but there's no answer from you. “I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm sorry, honey. But I promise...”

“Don't”. You turn at him raising your forefinger. “Don't make any promise you're not gonna keep, Filip”.

He knows you're truly sad when you call him by his real name. Chibs walks towards you, holding your hands slowly hoping that you're not gonna push him away again.

“Bishop and his guys 'gonna take care of you. And Happy said he told you about ‘Romero and Brothers’. I'm pretty sure you're gonna have fun there”. He's trying to make you understand.

“I don' care. I'm gonna be away from you”. You finally say, letting go all the pain you have inside your chest, oppressing your heart. “And you're not allowed to text me, nor call me. Could you imagine how distressing it feels?”

“'You think it isn't for me? I'm not stone cold, even if sometimes it's what it looks like, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. About what you're doing at any moment. If you're eating well, if you're sleeping... All the fucking time”. He replies trying to hide his anger. “But I need to protect you. And there aren't better hands than Bishop's”.

You nod. You don't want to continue arguing with him. Filip hugs you tightly, hiding your face on his neck, trying to not break in cry again. Your hands clinging on the back of his shirt. You're not sure how many time you have been like this, when your father decides that he should call the Mayans to pick you up.

The roars of motorcycles, coming just in time, have your attention. You take your stuff, rolling the suitcase over the floor till you find them outside. Your father takes it to keep it inside the van, before saying goodbye.

“They're gonna take care of you, ok?” He says again, holding your cheeks between his hands. You nod in silence about to cry. Leaving a kiss in your forehead, he hugs you. “If I can, I will text you. I promise. And I'll keep that one”.

“Two months?” You ask raising your gaze at him.

“I'll be back before your birthday”. Assures you. “I love ya' more than anything. You know, rai'?”

You nod again swallowing, before leaving one last caresses in your left cheek, cleaning the tear that falls down through it.

“You're going with my man, Coco”. Bishop talks, with the helmet covering his head while he wears both leather gloves. 

“And my bike?” You turn to your father with more dramatism than necessary.

“It's in the van too, don' worry”. Chibs answers, hitting twice one of the doors. “Canche could need you”.

“Or us”. The Mayans president add with a soft smile on his lips.

Things starts to change, when you're conscious that you will continue working with the charters even if yours isn't present. So, at least, it's not gonna be that bad as you thought. 

“I'm sorry 'I pointed you with my gun”.

“What I can expect from Chibs' daughter? It would have scared me more if you hadn't, after everything we've heard from you”. Your father chuckles because of the words of the Mayan. “Ready?”

You hug him again, taking some seconds to memorize his smell to not forget it at all.

“I love you”. You whisper, pulling him away softly, before walk to the front passenger seat of the van.

But, before the man could start the car, your father makes a last appearance, pointing with the forefinger to all the men presents there.

“If anyone of you touch my daughter, I'll cut off your cock and make you eat it”. The Mayans know that it's not a joke, so they nod agreeing.

“I've a daughter. Her name is Letti”. The mexican accent, camouflaged in the foreign language, pushes you out of your thoughts. “She's sixteen, but I think you could be fren'”. 

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

The sun is falling when you leave the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign behind the van. You sigh heavily settling in your seat. The fresh air that enters by the open window makes fly some strands of your hair, supporting both arms against the door, with your chin on it, to watch out of the car the sunset on the horizon. It's gonna be hard, you know it, but at least you will have Canche visiting you every week. Maybe Oscar comes from Stockton too.

“Yea', maybe...” You say, turning for a second.

Coco turns the radio, hoping that music makes you feel better, looking for a channel without interferences. Then, you hear your favourite song, turning to the hand that is moving the calibrator. The man stares at you with curiosity, before turning up the volume. The melody continues, while you go back to your position leaving your cheek this time and closing your eyes to focus in the song.

“Hey, oh, listen what I say, oh! I got your hey, oh! Now listen what I say, oh!”

You're about to give him the silent treatment, but that only has bad points in your favor. You'll have to live and work together for the next months, so sooner or later, you're gonna have to talk him.

The first time you listened that song, you were living with your parents in Glasgow. You can remember your father singing it to you all the time, before go to Charming. So, listen to it again causes you bittersweet feelings.

“I like the Red Hot' too”. Coco says trying to be kind, while his fingers drum the steering wheel to the beat of the music. You have to say that he has a funny voice and hearing him singing sounds like a dying cat. That makes you chuckle. “Hey! What's up, mami? Don' laugh on me!”

“Sweet Jesus Christ, you're gonna make it rain”. Your laughter is loud now, capturing president attention who slows down to reach your window.

“It's everything ok, uh?” He shouts over the sound his motorbikes does.

“I hope he has a good aim, 'cause he couldn't work as singer!” You say in laughs.

“He's a veteran Marine, kid! What do you think?” Bishop accelerates to return to his place, while you turn to the driver, truly surprised. He has a triumphal smile on his face and his gaze in front.

“These motherfuckers discharged me because I used a rifle to shoot a cigar out of an officer's mouth”. He tells you. “I was three hundred meters from him”.

This is amazing and you feel the curiosity growing inside you. Curling your legs on the seat, putting around them your arms, you stare at the Mayan.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“'Bout wha'?” He asks looking at you for a second a little confused.

“About the Marine”.

He frowns, looking at you again.

“You wanna hear 'bout it?”

“I'm not asking you about the Area Fifty One”. You say with a sharp voice shrugging.

“I'm pretty sure that would be a good talk too”.

“C'mon! It's a long travel!” It almost seems like you're starting to beg, but the topic of the Navy and Marine has always interested you.

“It's weird!”

“Why?”

“Cuz' nobody has asked me 'bout it before”. He says with the same confusion you saw on him before.

“So bad is it...?”

“No, it's... cool. Pretty cool”. He replies with a slight smile on his face.

“I wanted to enlist in the British Army, but my mother said it was too dangerous for me. So, I didn't”. Your voice trembles for a second, and he realizes it.

“Sorre' 'bout your mom, Chibs told us”. He says after a moment in silent. “I killed mine”.

Your face shows a similar gesture of horror, he shrugs exaggeratedly.

“That bitch hit my daughter, and hurt her so bad. She also forced her to have a ‘bad life’, 'you know what I mean. She deserved it”. The calm with which he explains overwhelms you.

You're starting to think he hasn't had a good life. But who in their right mind would work for an MC? Not you, neither does he.

“And your mother hate you so bad that she called you ‘Coconut’?” You try to finish the tension installed inside the van with somewhat bad joke.

“The fuck told you that's my name?” He breaks in laughter, shaking his head, accidentally giving a flywheel. 

“Oh, shit”. Both say in unison. The charter looks back.

“My bad!” He shouts sticking his head out the window for a moment.

“Then? What's your name?”

“Johnny Cruz. And everyone calls me Coco”.

“Why?”

“We're not in that level yet, mami”. He imitates the sharp voice you used before.

“Ok, but, are you gonna tell me about the Marine?”

He sighs rolling his eyes, before showing you again his smile. So, there you are, lying on your seat stretching legs crossed on the dashboard of the van. He starts to talk, of course with the funny story of how he enlisted and all the chaos he created, compensating for it with his good aim. His voice is so calm, that if you close your eyes, you could think is one of those podcast people use to sleep; without the part of shooting, murdering, and all the bloody stuff. 

Actually, you did. You closed your eyes, opening it when the night has fallen. You yawn, putting your legs on the floor of the van.

“Sorry, I didn't sleep last night”. You apologize with flushed cheeks, rubbing your eyes.

“It's ok, mami. Te ves bonita mientras duermes”. (You look pretty while you're sleeping). He says.

“What did you say?” You ask, pretending that you don't speak spanish, but the truth is that you studied it for three years while you were living in Scotland.

“That you were drooling everything”. He lies so bad that he's a little nervous. “We're almost reaching to Santo Padre”.

“Great... Home, sweet home, isn'it?”

[someonexsomeone]

To My Best Friend

Title: To My Best Friend

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 1609

AU: BestFriend!Johnny

Summary: It’s soft BestFriend!Johnny hours, where you both have to learn that separation is a part of growing up.

Authors Note: Wow! Another story without pairing. This was sparked from my roommate and I realizing one day we will have to live away from each other, which is absolutely heartbreaking. Tweaked a little to fit Johnny, but the feelings are still there. As always, comments and criticism are welcome!

When they first left each other after high school, they made a mutual promise to facetime once a week. Usually, this involved watching movies or tv together, but sometimes it would just be quiet - only scratching pens or the keys clicking away to fill the void of conversation. It was just as good as being in the same room, right? But Johnny’s dream took him to Korea, working alongside other students as they all worked towards debuting into the music world. 

That day...it was impossible not to think about it fondly. The day that Johnny left for Korea was monumental for two reasons. One, Johnny Suh was accepted into his dream company and had a high likelihood of debuting with major success. And two, Johnny Suh was a sneaky genius. 

"There's a flight that leaves in two hours to New York City," Johnny offhandedly mentioned as the two of you stood in front of the departures. Johnny was finally heading off to Korea of officially start major training, and as his best friend, you would be accompanying him up until the absolute last minute. How could you not? Your best friend in the whole world was leaving for a completely different country for who knows how long. There was no way you weren’t going to at least party it up a little with him before he was gone forever (and by ‘party it up’ it meant sightseeing and trying not to cry about his leaving). So here you now stood, feet planted firmly in front of the ‘Departing’ board, trying with minimal luck to find your gate. You hummed at his statement, but made no further comment, still searching the board. "You should take it." That made you look up at him instantly.

"What?” 

"I said, you should take it. The plane. To New York City." Johnny's voice was still unreadable. You scrunched your nose at his tone.

"Why on earth would I get on a plane to New York?"

"Because it's the best location for you to go." You finally turned your body fully to your best friend, but Johnny continued to stare straight forward.

 "Johnny, we're supposed to be dropping you off at SM, not taking a surprise detour to New York." Johnny signed heavily, his hands coming up to rest gently on your shoulders.

"You're my best friend in the whole world, and I hope you know I love you more than anything. But your ass is getting on that plane." You opened your mouth in protest, but all it took was a shake of Johnny's head to get you to shut up. "The lease on your parent's apartment is up at the end of this month, which, may I remind you, is in 8 days. I know they would love for you to continue to stay there, but I know you hate how closely they watch you. And I know you haven't been able to find another place - don't say anything, I'm still talking - despite your lame attempts to hide it. New York has everything you'd need, which includes tons of opportunities just waiting for you. You need to take that chance and go for it. You'll regret it your whole life if you don't."

Would you regret it? 

Yes, it was true that you hadn't been able to find another place to live, but nothing you had looked at felt right. It just felt wrong to stay in Chicago without Johnny. And yeah, you were slacking on school. It had been months since college started but you had put off applying for so long, too wrapped up in lame excuses - I'm tired, I have work, I can't do it right now. And after your horrible manager fired you for a mistake you were wrongfully blamed for, you hadn’t been doing much. Maybe jumping straight in would be the best option. You would have no excuse to slack off...

"But how would I even live there? I don't have enough money to live in New York," you finally said. Johnny gave you a sly smile.

"I heard there's a lady who owns a building in Queens who is renting to poor college students. Apparently, she has a real soft spot for struggling kids. Something about being a good person or whatever.” Johnny reached up and ruffled your hair playfully. “And, you know, since I already did all this research you should also know that your plane ticket can be exchanged for another flight.” Softly, he added, “If you wanted to, that is."

"Johnny, this is crazy!” You couldn’t help it. Your voice came out shrill, but the surprise was too much to keep your voice calm. It echoed off the walls of the large room, so in a quieter voice, you continued, “You want me to completely drop my life just like that? What about the rest of my stuff?"

"Come on, the flight is in two hours. Plenty of time to get back to the apartment and pack. I know for a fact that all of the stuff you really care about can fit into a suitcase."

You were spellbound. Your friend - your beautiful, kind-hearted, absolutely bat-shit crazy best friend - had gone out of his way in the most stressful time in his life to make sure that his best friend was going to be okay. The tears couldn't be stopped as they started to roll down your cheeks - huge, wet globs that turned black from your cheap mascara and formed a Y shape around your quivering lips. You couldn't help it. You threw your arms around Johnny, sobbing loudly in the middle of the airport for all to see. Onlookers starred as Johnny smiled and patted you gently on the back, stroking your hair.

You did end up taking that plane to New York. You had to practically beg to live in the house Johnny recommended, and spent your first day in New York sending out as many resumes as you could. Full-time, part-time, internships - whatever you could find, you sent. Worked as a waitress at a horrible nightclub near the apartment for a month. Lived like you were in college, with no solid furniture or regular eating habits. Even lived without heat for a while just to keep the WIFI running. But, you were happy.

Across the world, Johnny was thriving in his new location. You called as much as you could, which was a lot more than Johnny was available. Still, just the happy melody of his tone was enough to keep you relatively worry-free. Johnny told you stories of the amazing people he’d met already, a boy named Sehun was particularly fun to be around, apparently, and he made you laugh with all the crazy things he somehow managed to get up to. 

Months continued on and you got an internship position at a company for something you were really interested in. Unpaid, for the first six months, but better than nothing. You still worked as a waitress, thankfully at a nice restaurant that didn’t have men leering at you the whole time, waiting to apply for a full-time position. But, even better, the college in New York accepted your application, a hefty scholarship taking a weight off your shoulders and the answer much too easy. You remember the smile on Johnny’s face, megawatt despite the dark circles under his eyes, and congratulated you a thousand times over. A few weeks later, a package full of Korean treats arrived in the mail, a beautiful handwritten card with almost completely illegible handwriting attached along with it that only read ‘love you bitch’. You still had it to this day, hung up on the wall among your other photos.

And when you finally earned enough money, Johnny flew all the way from Korea during his break to help you apartment hunt. It was, of course, exactly like the movies portrayed with blue skies, mile-high skyscrapers, and bustling streets - except every apartment was dingy and small and could barely contain a person, let alone a bed. But you still laughed along with the realtors, both desperate and otherwise (because let’s be honest - most people would live in a roach-infested apartment just to stay in New York), ate cheap hot dogs in between showings, and even managed to drive down to Chicago so Johnny could see his family (which was practically your family too). 

And, for the first time since high school, you and Johnny were able to eat together, hug each other, and hang out day and night in person, not keeping your relationship of fast facetime calls with blurry images and indistinguishable audio. You realized just how much you missed Johnny Suh, just how much your life revolved around your best friend, and how much of a comfort Johnny was for you. When no one else was there, Johnny always was, ready to hold your hand our of the darkness.

In that quiet, black night, you rolled over and hugged Johnny close, just one more time. In the morning, Johnny Suh and you would once again be across the world from one another. In the morning, Johnny Suh would be boarding his plane back to Korea and you would be signing a form to stay permanently in New York, and your lives will once again be separated. But, that’s all for the morning. For now, you will hold Johnny close, listening to his deep breath as he finally gets a good night's sleep, feel as his soft hair glides through his fingers, smile as he wraps his arms just as tightly around you, and treasure the moments you still have left.

Masterlist

[mischievouspoltergeist]

When my mother got sick last year, someone asked me why I had such an issue with taking care of her (as I'd expressed I really didn't feel like I 'had' to or owed her that much as she had never taken care of us ever, let alone when we were sick, but that I intended to try anyway) since I called her my best friend (supposedly, at some point, I believe I probably did, it was something she made me say at family gatherings a lot).

It's taken almost a year and a whole lot of shit for me to answer that question: I was stuck in an abusive relationship with my mother and the only way to survive was to make myself believe we really were friends. Because if I let myself realise she really didn't care about me, I could never have sorted in my head why I did everything she wanted, why I went along with so much and why I stuck around.

In many ways, the pattern of abuse was identical to my relationship with a man who had narcissistic personality disorder (diagnosed, aware of it and chose not to engage in help). Except, I left him after four months, but for at least three of those I was kept on a string of believing I was the problem whilst he screamed in my face, bullied me and physically abused me.

My relationship with my mother lasted 23 years. For many of those years I was still a child. I was so easy to indoctrinate with ideas and beliefs that I was the root of all the problems in her world. I went with it. I've spent years feeling like I ruined my mother's life because that's what she told me. I've spent YEARS trying to make up for what I did by being born because that's what she told me to do.

It's led to me growing up to become a vulnerable adult. When I think someone loves me, I think their opinion about me must just be right. Because surely someone who loves you wouldn't tell you were a fat whore unless it was true, right?

It was so easy to dodge questions like 'why do you put up with her if she literally is so rude to you all the time?' with a 'idk. She's my best friend' because don't best friends speak every day? Don't best friends do things together constantly? Don't best friends scream at their best friend when they haven't spoken to them in 5 hours? Don't best friends kick and shout and scream when you say you're busy and can't do anything that day?

My friends witnessed many incidents with my mum and would ask, incredously, why the fuck I hang around her when she spoke to me that way, and it would just be a shrug. It was easier to go along with it than fight it. Fighting back meant being screamed at and frightening displays of controlling behaviour. It was as simple as if I hung around my mum daily, the abuse was at around 30-70% severity dependent on her mood. If I ignored her for a few days, then the abuse was at 80-100% severe. Imagine going to spend the day with someone who is going to yell at you every time you speak, put you down at every chance, find an insecurity and dig and dig and dig. So you avoid that by letting her abuse you just a bit less daily.

I was dependant on my mum for much of life's little things and she made sure of that. It's been hard and relying on my friends to help me is difficult and scary because I'm so used to it coming with a cupful of abuse. I'm always on edge, waiting for it to blow up in my face.

I also just don't know where to draw lines thanks to my mums abuse. How much abuse is too much? My chart is way off. I will keep trying cos god, the size of the cup of abuse my mum fed me daily was absolutely huge compared to the abuse I've ever had from others. Someone could say one nice thing about me and abuse me the rest of the day and that would still be less abuse than my mother dealt me.

I made so many excuses for her. She admitted fully she never wanted me from the start - my dad wanted me but when I was born, he changed his mind and got a job so she had to put her life on hold and so I ruined everything. I was a problem from the start because I was female, and that meant I was going to be abused in her eyes, so she detached herself (was she ever attached?) rather than even attempt to protect me. I excused her for that. I first shouldered the blame for why she hated me when I was 6/7 years old and she told me about her own past. The grand irony is that had she been watching, had she cared to pay attention, I would likely not have been abused. The grandest irony of all was that my biggest abuser was her.

I still catch myself excusing her. 'Oh I always went silent after she screamed at me for daring to ask her not to be nasty towards me. Maybe I could have spoken up more.' even though I know logically that only made things worse. I remember once asking her if I could remove the furniture from my bedroom when she was away (so I could store it in her room) so that I could remove the black mould growing all up my windows, my walls and (as I later discovered), all up the sides of my actual bed and mattress. I was so ill all of the time and my breathing was a mess. I could smell it all the time, it was so overwhelming and although I cleaned what I could, due to my bedroom being a closet, I couldn't get behind anything without removing everything. She said no. No reason, no explanation, just no. Like most things that benefitted me. I was incredibly frustrated and begged that I could barely breathe for mould, she screamed at me that I deserved it and it was my fault. Black mould had been a persistent problem in that room long before I moved into it, as she had lived there before and seen it. I finally raised my voice and told her I wasn't going to accept this blatant disregard for my health and I was going to do it next time she was away anyway. I was paying rent at that point but it did not stop her getting up and getting in my face and telling me to get the fuck out her house. The third or so time she had kicked me out. There was no reasoning with her. She liked it when I suffered.

She is a narcissist through and through and I have been suffocated by narcissistic abuse for 23 years. Even now, she attempts to abuse me via my brother and father and even the government. She has lost her victim - the last person willing to take her shit. Most her family and friends are not willing to help her for more than five minutes as she treats them unkindly when she realises they will take it and stick around. I've watched her do it, and it just gets worse and worse for those people like it did for me. But they leave, because it has not been 23 years for them.

I don't even know where I'm going with this. I'm just... Through. My dad accepted my ultimatum and chose me. It's a weird feeling and a promise I hope he can keep. I know she asks him for information and I have told him to stop giving it to her repeatedly.

To those who think a mother deserves for their child to revere them permanently just because they birthed them... You're wrong. It is our actions and choices that shape our relationship and at every choice, my mother chose to act in her own interests with no care for anyone else. This is a woman who let a man beat her children whilst bragging to them he'd never hit her cos he knew she'd leave. I gave both my parents chances to mend our relationships and believe me, my dad was an appalling parent growing up. He was atrocious. But he decided he wanted to mend that relationship and he wanted to be a dad. Yes, it's sad he didn't realise it sooner but I'm happy for the relationship I have with him now, even if it's not perfect and he really doesn't know how to dad sometimes. My mum? My mum will still tell you it's my fault she finished her degree a year later than she wanted because I was born and I ruined everything 23 years ago. I dared to be born female and put that stress on her. She holds it over my head like it is my responsibility to fix. It has broken me. I've spent 23 years trying to make up to her the faults of my being born and nothing will ever, EVER be good enough to do that. I have given all I have to give. I literally have nothing left to give.